


Changes

by clarnicamhalai



Series: Aurora Australis [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Australian Ministry of Magic, Minor Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Mistrust, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Post-War, Rebuilding Family, wanton tense changes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 03:40:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30032451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarnicamhalai/pseuds/clarnicamhalai
Summary: Recovering her parents' memories after the war has unexpected consequences and, for the first time since she turned eleven, Hermione chooses her family.
Series: Aurora Australis [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209302
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Hermione visits her parents in Australia three years after the war, one year after they’ve regained their memories, and eleven months after she heard the words _we forgive you_ tumble from their mouths (they assume it had been the other side that had tampered with their minds; when Hermione admits it was her, she feels the atmosphere of the room change from love and joyous reunion to confusion and then fear; she feels the way they retract from her and she hates it).

Being in this great southern country feels almost as strange as the first time she crossed the magical border back home in England. There are so many things that she doesn’t understand, and it’s a little alienating to hear her parents talking about sports she doesn’t understand, celebrities she’s never heard of, and, worst of all, the sibling they’d almost given her when Monica and Wendell Wilkins began to try for a child, oblivious to the daughter already living.

But Hermione is nothing if not adaptable, and so she stays in the small, neat house not five hundred metres from an east coast beach, helping her mother with the dishes after dinner and talking to her father about her finances and the new job she’s due to start with the Australian Ministry of Magic.

It’s so suffocatingly normal sometimes she can hardly bear it, because underneath all the smiles and stories – the carefully constructed family atmosphere – there is still a degree of mistrust; a fear that she’ll do it all again. And she hates that deep down she knows, if it came to it, she would.

It all becomes too much one evening; her mother has stumbled over a half-formed, bitter statement about free will and puppetry after a few too many glasses of wine and Hermione waits only until the main meal is over before she flees into the encroaching night. The sun is almost set, but its rays still paint the sky purple and orange, with dark clouds that streak across the horizon. She is due to move into a new flat in a week’s time, and, for once, that day cannot come soon enough.

Staring out over the water, Hermione feels the familiar ache of doubt – did _she do the right thing by her parents in the war?_ – then the bitter flare of anger – _Death Eaters destroyed their home and would have done for her parents in an instant but for her choice, she saved them and they have the nerve to say she went too far!_ – and, finally, the sadness of an irreparable rift between parents and daughter.

And it all comes back to the war. The bloody war she should never have had to fight but could never have avoided.

When she finally traipses home, the light is off in her parents’ bedroom and the only witness to her return is a silent house swathed in shadows.

A week is an awfully long time when your housemates don’t trust you.


	2. Chapter 2

She broke up with Ron when she decided to stay in Australia with her parents.

It was fine; it had been a mutual decision, and they were very adult about the whole thing. Ron told her later that Molly had cried (she’d clearly been planning the next family wedding in her head) but they all understood the pair’s reasoning and had made sure Hermione knew she was always welcome at the Burrow. Ron and Harry were still her best friends in the world, but friends had taken over family for too many years; she had to at least try and rebuild her relationship with her parents.

She fire-called Ron on a whim, her first night in her new place. It had been her only demand while looking a for a new home: there had to be a working fireplace. It had been almost impossible to find one, but eventually an apartment with an original working fireplace had appeared on the rental market. She can’t floo travel internationally from it, but she can fire-call – international networks allowed for that these days, and she’d known it would make all the difference to her being able to settle in or not.

Ron answered, looking a bit wild. He also appeared to be shirtless.

She raised her eyebrows. “Bad timing?”

Ron looked guilty enough that she didn’t need the confirmation of his eyes glancing towards an out of view paramour; he nonetheless avoided the question. “I didn’t want to miss your call.”

“Just feeling a bit homesick now that the unpacking is done and I’m sitting down in my brand new, empty home,” she admitted. “Nothing urgent. We can make a date to catch up next week and I’ll leave you to get back to the business at hand.”

There was a muffled sound in the background and Ron turned to listen to whoever was in the room with him. He had a soft expression on his face and Hermione was forcefully reminded of why she’d fallen in love with him. She wasn’t plagued by jealousy by any means, but she did feel a little envious – she missed the intimacy of having someone in her orbit. The teamwork of being in relationship and knowing there was always someone in your corner.

Suddenly, a mass of wavy blond hair barged into view in front of Ron. “Hemione! So good to see you and don’t you dare end the call – the business at hand can wait – I’m going to head off for a bit so you two can catch up, and Ronnie and I can make up for lost time later.” And with that Lavender Brown winked at her before vanishing from view as quickly as she’d appeared.

Hermione hadn’t made any guesses as to Ron’s companion’s identity, but she was entirely unsurprised to learn it was Lavender. They made a good pair (as adults, at least), and Lavender had become far more cognizant of others since the battle of Hogwarts – she was quicker than most to read a room and had developed sensational listening skills. She worked closely with Bill these days in a volunteer capacity with the Werewolf Liaison Project, but that was all Hermione knew (courtesy of the Weasley grapevine). No doubt she’d be finding out more soon enough.

“She’s ruddy thoughtful,” Ron said, running his hand through his red hair. “It’s nothing like it was at Hogwarts, but I’m not sure I’d have gone on a second date if she’d started calling me Won-Won again.”

Hermione laughed and he looked at her very openly, almost vulnerable as he said, “I really like her, Hermione.”

“You fit together,” Hermione told him honestly. “I’m happy for you, Ron.”

He smiled.

“How is it down under?” he asked. “New place, new job, new country?”

“Difficult. Different. I’m only starting to really relax now that there’s going to be some routine to my days that doesn’t involve being awkward around my parents for three square meals a day.”

“Are they still taking it hard?” Ron asked. He and Harry had heard it all first-hand when she’d bailed back to England in hysterics because her parents hated her and couldn’t understand why she’d done what she’d done.

“I think it’s getting better, but it’s hard to tell. We still act like strangers,” she admitted. “Well, maybe not strangers,” she said, after a pause, “but distant relatives. Like we know we should be closer, but there’s no common ground.”

She hurriedly wiped at her eyes before any tears could fall. “Anyway, hopefully it’ll be better if I’m not there all the time. We can slowly carve back some familiarity. It might feel more organic.”

“You did the right thing, Hermione,” Ron said with quiet conviction. “They wouldn’t have been able to protect your parents on top of Harry’s family. The Order was stretched too thin.”

“Stop it, you’re making me weepy,” she scolded in jest, rather wetly, as she tried to cover up the flood of tears that were leaking out. How she had needed to hear those words! Validation for her actions, made under duress and with no aid whatsoever.

Ron smiled crookedly. “Come on, tell me about this job you’ve signed on for – that’ll put the fire back into your eyes.”

Hermione laughed and launched into an explanation of what it is she was going be doing in the Australian Ministry, leaving behind the upsets of the past. After two hours talking to Ron, she felt more even-keeled than she had in weeks.

The future looked brighter under the southern cross for now, but she was interminably glad Ron and Harry were only a fire call away.


End file.
